


What is the point of my life, if it's not happening with you?

by mariamegale



Series: Call me 'sweetheart', please? [12]
Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: Angst, Conflict Resolution, Fluff, Getting Back Together, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Kisses, M/M, Makeup, Post-Break Up, Resolution, and, snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29582052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariamegale/pseuds/mariamegale
Summary: Babe just doesn’t understand how the fuck this happened, how he went from living his actual best life to being an overgrown baby staying with his parents after smothering the best person in his life so badly that Eugene feels like he has to leave the fucking state to get away from it.The whole life he’s built himself, destroyed and done because Babe fell in love with him and wouldn’t let him fucking leave without turning it into a fucking disaster.Eugene had said “c’mere” and Babe took it like an invitation of permanence, attached himself to this man with everything he had without caring about whether or not Eugene would appreciate having to haul around an extra 150 pounds all the time.“I can’t,” he’d said, and Jesus Christ, no wonder about that. No wonder he couldn’t, no wonder he had no fucking clue about what to do, working himself to death to get away from Babe and his fucking moodiness only to get punished with the silent treatment like a child.Babe puts his hands on the back of his neck, pressing his head down, screwing his face up in anger that he won’t stop crying, because he has no fucking right to be crying. Not here, not like this, not with Eugene on the other side of the door.
Relationships: Edward "Babe" Heffron/Eugene Roe
Series: Call me 'sweetheart', please? [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722178
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	What is the point of my life, if it's not happening with you?

**Author's Note:**

> .......well, here we are. I think we might be done.
> 
> I'm sorry this ended up taking so long. 2021 has, so far, been a bit of a nightmare for me. But I never wanted to give up on the story, even though my writing ability kinda died along the way, so I hope this resolution will end up feeling like a fitting conclusion for them. 
> 
> Your comments and support have meant the fucking world to me, this whole journey (almost a year, whoah) and in the end, some love sent my way via a comment box these last few days was what made me push through and finish CMS. Never forget to tip your writers with kudos and comments if you like their work, guys, it is worth twice their weight in gold.
> 
> ...if ao3 comments had any kind of weight. For the sake of this I will say a comment weighs a thousand pounds.
> 
> Anyway.
> 
> I hope you enjoy <3

Babe already feels tired as he unlocks the door.

He hasn’t been home in weeks, which is a long time for someone not to be home, but also feels like not enough time to create the feeling that he’s walking into an unfamiliar space.

There’s something raw about that, the way he feels a little closed off as he walks over the threshold and toes his shoes off. He’s lived here for four years, no amount of uncomfortability between him and his roommate should manage to make him feel like he’s a stranger to his own home, but here he is.

The place feels cold and quiet, which is a bit of a relief despite… The hollowness it causes in his chest, because Babe doesn’t know what he’d do if Eugene was actually home. 

_(“I wish you’d be here with me,” he’d told Bill an hour ago as he got ready to leave his parents’ house, unhappily getting an empty old sport bag out of his closet._

_“Babe, you’re not going in there to fight the fucking Gettysburg battle,” Bill had told him flatly, sounding like he was looking over his shoulder to make sure his boss didn’t catch him on his phone in the middle of his shift. “Just get in, pick your shit up, and leave again, how fucking hard can it be?”_

_“Forgive me for being anxious that Gene’s gonna fucking be there,” Babe had snapped at him. “This whole thing was you fucking idea—“_

_“Gene is working, unless you think Spina has any reason to lie to all of us, now will you calm down? You’re the one who’s recycling the same three fucking pairs of underwear—“_

_“I can’t believe I told you that.”_

_“Me neither, buddy, but if you thought I wasn’t gonna do something about it you were mistaken. Now man the fuck up and go to your fucking apartment.”)_

Because that was the only big thing that could actually fuck him up right now, in amongst all the small things that were already fucking him up. Like how the air felt stale, as if nobody had been in their flat for days, or how their back-of-the-door calendar was still covered in the notes about Eugene working at every opportunity November out, and how it hadn’t gotten flipped to December yet. 

It was the 6th, and Gene never forgot to flip the calendar for more than a day. Maybe that was just another thing he’d been doing because Babe was too much of a child to remember anything on his own, so why bother when he was no longer there.

Babe forces himself to stop looking at the calendar, and how he can see new notes having popped up after he left, as if Gene was thinking he’d have come back and would’ve needed to know when the apartment would be vacant of Eugene. He forces himself to look away, because if he lets himself trip over all the reminders of how nice Gene always was to him, he wouldn’t get out of this alive.

And then there are a few shuffling noises coming out of the living room, and Babe wants to scream.

“Oh,” Eugene says when he pops into view, standing weirdly close to the wall of the corner he’s showing out from behind of, like he’s shy. “Hi, Babe. You— I didn’t know you were coming over.”

It says something about how horrible Gene looks that Babe isn’t even currently thinking about how either Bill lied to him, Smokey lied to Bill, or Bill fucking Guarnere didn’t actually do his fucking homework. Because Eugene is very much here, and not at work, sporting a ‘deer caught in the headlights’ look that Babe can’t even hope he isn’t mirroring himself.

“I thought you were at work,” is what he says, because that’s smooth, isn’t it? Eugene shrugs twitchily, eyes flickering between the floor and Babe’s face.

“I was… Gonna be, but Ralph made my supervisor give me the day off. Apparently, uh, I’ve been… Lot of overtime, y’know? They’re getting worried about having to pay all that extra wage, or that something will happen and they get sued for something, I don’t know, it’s a lot of bureaucracy.”

_More like they’re worried you’re gonna die on your fucking shift,_ Babe thinks, because Gene kinda looks like he’s ready to keel over at any minute. He’s pale, somehow even thinner than he just naturally always is, and hasn’t been sleeping enough if the dark circles are any indication, or the way he can’t even get his eyes to not be half-lidded while also looking so surprised he should be sitting down.

He’s also wearing what looks like three sweaters, which means he’s cold, which means he isn’t taking care of himself. Yeah, sure, Eugene is always cold to some degree, but it gets better if he eats properly and spends time sitting down where he can actually bundle himself up properly, or—

_Or being pressed up against another person,_ his brain substitutes unhelpfully, because Babe is an asshole like that. Because this is the sane thing to do, isn’t it? See Eugene looking like a ghost of himself because he’s been left alone for too long, and your first instinct is to translate that to an excuse to crowd up against him even though you have no fucking right to do that, anymore.

Babe’s head hurts. And he’s angry at himself, because this is his fault. What was he thinking, leaving Eugene alone, at the start of fucking winter and holiday season? The man’s natural state is to work himself to death unless someone stops him, and that has been Babe’s job for these past few year. 

Or it had been, until Babe fucked it all up by falling in love and then running away like a coward because he couldn’t man up and deal with the fallout of his own actions, leaving Eugene alone and free to drag himself through the fucking dirt without anyone pulling the breaks.

He tries to remind himself that Eugene is a grown man responsible for his own behaviour, not a fucking pet, and it helps a little. Not a lot, but a little bit.

“You, uh, did you have a good Thanksgiving?” Gene asks him quietly, pulling Babe out of his weird internal monologue. Eugene is still looking like he’s uncomfortable, which isn’t a surprise given that he should probably be laying down, in his state.

“Oh, yeah, I did, it was… It was fun.” It had been exhausting, because for all that his parents were happy to have him, it really was like he had been fourteen again. Including the part where his life was assumed to be so non-existent it was forgettable, as exemplified by the way his dad had forgotten to even ask Babe his turn when they were all listing off what they were thankful for about this year.

Bella had reminded him, and it had been one of the worst moments of Babe’s life, especially after everyone was done kicking up a fuss over the mistake, turned their eyes to him, and Babe couldn’t get one genuine sentence out of his mouth.

“ _I’m thankful about the months I got to spend getting fucked by a man I love who I will probably not ever even be in the same room as again because I fucked everything up_ ” isn’t exactly something you tell your Catholic parents, you know?

Just as how he isn’t going to tell Eugene the reality of how he spent his Thanksgiving, because there’s no point in laying all that on this man who probably just wants Babe to leave him alone right now. 

“That’s good, I’m glad to hear that,” Gene says quietly, nodding down at the carpet like he’s thinking about something else. “Were they— No, sorry, uh, if you wanna make lunch or something I think we have some stuff for a sandwich, but I haven’t really… I kinda forgot to do the shopping, it’s been a bit—“

“No, it’s okay, I’m just picking up some stuff,” Babe says quickly, and Gene blinks up at him.

“…hectic lately. Oh. I thought— Okay, uh, I can just… Go into my room, let you—“

“No, Gene, Jesus,” Babe babbles around the sudden lump in his throat, because Gene has bunched his hands up in his hoodie and he always does that when he gets nervous. “You don’t gotta— I’ll just get some stuff and I’ll be out of your hair again, don’t even worry about it, I promise it’s not gonna be long, not gonna… Bother you or anything, promise.”

He wrestles his jacket off like it’s burning him, dropping it on the floor because who gives a shit, almost forgetting his bag in his hurry to get to his room. Babe is not going to spend one more moment longer than absolutely fucking necessary, and next time he’s sending George or Joe or someone he can actually fucking trust, because he’s not doing this to Eugene again.

He is not gonna storm in here, crowding Gene in and making him so fucking uncomfortable he feels like he can’t even be in his own apartment, again. He’s not gonna make him feel like Babe is coming over and ruining his day with his weird silence and his feelings and his gross over-attachment. He’s not.

“Babe, wait,” Gene says, because of fucking course he says that, Babe’s fucking power-walking past him like he’s a desperate housewife with a pool boy to seduce. “We need to— can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure, Gene, what’s up?” It’s probably the least fucking casual Babe has ever been in his whole life, looking over Eugene’s shoulder rather than directly at him, because he’s so panicky and angry with himself that he thinks he’s gonna have to revisit the good old days of sitting on the floor of his bedroom and crying.

“Our landlord called the other week,” Gene says, pulling his hands out of his hoodie to be able to wring his fingers together in what’s most likely an entirely unconscious nervous tick. He’s looking down at the floor instead of at Babe, which also feels horrible. “I was gonna tell you, but, well.”

Well, what? Babe thinks, before he remembers, and wants to fucking smack himself in the fucking face, because _oh, right. I told him not to call, so of course he wouldn’t call, because Eugene is nothing if not fucking considerate of the people around him all the fucking time._

“Oh?” Is what Babe says, though, just hoping to get this fucking conversation over with as soon as possible.

“Yeah, we gotta renew the lease at the end of January, and he just wanted to check in,” Eugene continues, looking down at his hands and stopping the twisting of his fingers. “And I was thinking that maybe you’d wanna take over the lease, so I should… Check with you?”

Babe feels very confused, and now he is looking at Gene’s actual face. “Why would I take over the lease?”

“‘Cause I was thinking about, maybe I should move out,” Eugene says, shrugging and looking up and out of the balcony doors. The second he stops watching his hands, he starts pushing on his cuticles, like he isn’t in control of what he does unless he’s actively checking. Babe can relate to that feeling.

“You’re… What?” Babe asks quietly, staring at Eugene, not really understanding what’s going on right now. “You’re gonna move? Where?”

“I don’t know, maybe back to Louisiana,” Gene responds quietly, licking his lips, eyes not moving from whatever he’s looking at outside the windows. “Apparently there are some hospitals around New Orleans and Lafayette that’re looking for new doctors, and my residence is almost done, so. It’s be nice to be closer to family, you know? And I don’t wanna…”

Babe feels like he’s been slapped in the face. There’s no nervous energy left in him driving him to run away from this conversation, just stunned silence left in his head. “You’re leaving Philly?” He asks, his voice quiet, and Gene licks his lips again.

“I realised I can’t stay here anymore, Edward,” he says, and it’s so matter-of-fact that it’s making Babe’s head spin. “You’re nice, so I know you’ll fight me on this, but I— I drove you out of your apartment. I thought if I stayed away enough you wouldn’t be uncomfortable, but I get— and I don’t have the right to— but I don’t have anywhere to stay and I’m not gonna impose on… So I figured, this might be a good time, you know?”

Babe doesn’t know. Babe doesn’t understand. He’s having a really difficult time realising that he’s made Eugene feel like he has to leave the apartment, the city, the fucking state.

Since when have they regressed back to Gene calling him Edward?

“So, we should talk about you maybe…” And Eugene is going on about the lease or something, his voice so plain it’s like he’s describing a medical procedure to one of the interns (which Babe only knows about because Gene likes practicing it on him first before actually going live, and Babe likes drinking chocolate milk and giving Eugene applause whenever he’s good at explaining something, because it makes him blush) rather than talking about what he’s actually talking about.

Which is— Leaving. Leaving for real. Leaving, for real, because Babe has made Eugene feel guilty about chasing him away. He’s not gonna stay, he isn’t gonna be around, Babe is never gonna be allowed to see him again and it’s all his own fault.

“Babe?” Eugene says, and Babe hasn’t realised that Gene is looking at him again, or that his eyes have gotten very, very wet. 

“Oh, shit,” is what he says when he does, because Babe has always been eloquent like that. He turns around so fast he hopes Gene just isn’t gonna notice that he’s crying, walking back to his room with the sleeve of his shirt pressed against his eyes. “That’s great, Gene, your family is gonna be so happy to hear it, tell them hi from me next time you— Or don’t, that’s weird, nevermind, I’m just gonna get my stuff and… And yeah. Leave you alone. Yeah. Just give me the papers whenever.”

Is it childish to push his door closed after him? Maybe, but if that’s the case then Babe is just gonna have to be a childish fucking bastard, then, because he is not gonna leave his door open for Gene to hear him right now.

He sits down on the opposite end of his bed, on the side facing the windows, actually getting about four seconds of breathing in before he sniffles and the whole dam just breaks. 

Hand pressed over his eyes, he sobs into nothing, his other hand laying still in his lap because even hugging himself feels like it’d take too much energy. He just doesn’t understand how the fuck this happened, how he went from living his actual best life to being an overgrown baby staying with his parents after smothering the best person in his life so badly that Eugene feels like he has to leave the fucking state to get away from it.

The state, and his friends, and the whole life he’s built himself over the last five years, destroyed and over because Babe fell in love with him and wouldn’t let him fucking leave without turning it into a fucking disaster.

Eugene said “c’mere” and Babe took it like an invitation of permanence, attached himself to this man with everything he had without caring about whether or not Eugene would appreciate having to haul around an extra 150 pounds all the time. And then he had the audacity to get upset when Gene very very gently let him know he couldn’t do it anymore.

_“I can’t,”_ he’d said, and Jesus Christ, no wonder about that. No wonder he couldn’t, no wonder he had no fucking clue about what to do, working himself to death to get away from Babe and his fucking moodiness only to get punished with the silent treatment like a child.

Babe puts his hands on the back of his neck, pressing his head down, screwing his face up in anger that he won’t stop crying, because he has no fucking right to be crying. Not here, not like this, not with Eugene on the other side of the door.

And Eugene is indeed on the other side of that door, forehead pressed against it, listening to Babe’s muffled sobs with a lump in his own throat.

This isn’t how he expected this to go. None of this day has gone like how he expected, from Ralph calling him that morning and very sternly telling him not to come into work for a few days, because apparently he’d gone behind Gene’s back to his supervisor and gotten her to take Eugene off the schedule for a while.

He’d ended up almost screaming at his best friend, which wasn’t a proud moment, but he kinda stands behind that decision because what the fuck. Deep down he knows that what he’s doing hasn’t been good, knows that this amount of work, to the point where it was almost around the clock, wasn’t good.

Not for the patients, not for the mental health of his friends, not for him. Although Gene couldn’t give two fucking shits about what’s good for him, all his time and energy going towards finding ways to keep himself busy with no real attention paid to his own well-being.

What he needs is to not have any time or energy to think, because when he thinks, all that it’s about is Babe and the notable absence of him. About the way Babe had started to pull back after Gene called their thing off, becoming jittery and absent and smiling at Gene like he felt sorry for him, coming up with excuses to get out of the apartment so bad that even social disaster Eugene Roe could see right through them.

He thinks about how entirely justified it was, because of the moment he came home to find two of Babe’s jackets missing and a note on their calendar that he’d left, that he didn’t want to hear from Eugene, and felt like he’d gotten punched in the stomach.

He’d gone through the rest of that afternoon feeling a bit dazed, in their empty apartment, curled up on the sofa with his leftover soup burning on the stove because he really didn’t give a shit about getting up and saving it. Why would he? What did it matter if he ate then, or if he ate later, or if he didn’t eat at all that night, what the fuck did a pot of soup matter, Babe was gone. He was gone and he didn’t want to even hear from him.

The weight of his own colossal failure had come crashing down on top of Gene at that moment. Because hadn’t his whole goal here be to cut things off before he managed to ruin them? To stop fucking around with Babe while he still had the ability to let them recover?

What had he done instead? 

Chased Babe out of his apartment, chased him back home to his fucking parents, people Babe had once described as “lovely, but fuck me if I ever spend another night there with my ma asking me five times if I’ve brushed my teeth before bed” while gratefully taking the beer Gene had handed him. 

Eugene had effectively made Babe feel so uncomfortable he’d felt forced to leave his whole life behind in one impulsive-looking swoop.

So he did what he did to cope with anything; he worked, and he tried to plan. The planning hadn’t fucking worked, because he had no idea what Babe really wanted, and he wasn’t gonna call to find out when he’d been so clearly told to back off. And then their landlord had called, and Gene realised that it was that easy, that he could really just… Leave.

Leave Philadelphia, leave Babe alone, let everyone forget that he’d ever been around so that they could all just go back to what their lives were before Gene showed up. So that Babe could go back to what his life was before Gene showed up, or at least start living only in the pieces that Eugene had nothing to do with.

But then Babe hadn’t looked happy to hear it, as one would expect news about your stalker-level roommate going as far away as reasonably possible from you to be received. Instead he’d looked like he just got all the air sucked out of him, when Eugene had looked back at him, face blank and eyes wet around the rims.

He’d looked devastated. 

And that’s how they ended up where they currently were, Gene with his head pressed against the door Babe had slammed on him, staring at the doorknob while hearing what was undeniably crying on the other side.

He doesn’t know what to do. Eugene feels so fucking lost in this moment, because what he thought was reliable knowledge about himself and who he was has turned out to just be a load of horseshit. Every turn, this last month, he’s tried to do what he thought was the right thing, and it’s turned out to just make everything worse every goddamn time.

A month ago he was waking up curled around Babe, one hand over his heart reminding Gene of just how warm and safe he was, and now he’s standing and listening to the same boy cry in his bedroom like he doesn’t want Eugene to know about it.

_He doesn’t know what to do._ Every part of him, except the sensible ones, want to open the door and crawl up on the bed and pull Babe into his arms, rocking him back and forth until he feels better, but he can’t do that, can he? That’s the sensible part of him, screaming, that he has to give Babe space, that he can’t just barge in, that he has no right to assume.

But at the same time, what’s the worst that could happen? They’re already broken beyond repair, how much more damage can Eugene realistically do?

Not much, he’s betting, or at least not damage that is gonna make a lasting impression considering the whole situation. He twists the doorknob and very gently glints the door open, stopping when he can just about see the shape on the bed. Babe is sitting with his back against the door, his hands pressed against his temples and his neck bent.

“Babe?” Eugene asks quietly, and Babe’s response is to first sniffle and take a deep, level breath before speaking.

“Yeah? What’s up?” He says, his voice light but nose clearly stuffed, not looking up from where he’s sitting. Gene’s heart aches.

“Babe,” Eugene says again, voice very quiet. Now that he’s here, he can’t come up with something to say, is just watching Babe where he sits hunched in on himself and breathing unsteadily. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

It’s probably the single truest thing he’s ever said, because he really has no idea how the hell this all happened. He doesn’t know why they fucked, that first time, or why they continued, he doesn’t know how he fell in love so deep he doesn’t know how to get himself out.

Gene doesn’t know how they went from being entwined in each other’s lives to… to _this_ , in a few weeks time. He doesn’t know how he’s standing on one side of the door listening to Babe crying because Eugene is moving back to Louisiana on impulse. He doesn’t understand how the fuck they got here.

It still feels like a cop out. Babe clears his throat, but says nothing, not moving or doing anything at all in response to that. Eugene feels like he’s going to start crying, because this isn’t allowed to happen. Babe isn’t allowed to be this sad, not because of Gene, not because of anything, and Eugene isn’t allowed to know about it without being able to do anything to stop it.

He pushes the door further open, taking a step inside, and Babe clears his throat again.

When he speaks, Babe’s voice is the smallest one Eugene has ever heard. He sounds like a very small child asking Santa for peace on Earth. It makes the lump Gene’s his throat burn uncomfortably, his attempts at swallowing fruitless as Babe sniffles through his stuffed-up nose. “Gene, I don’t want you to go to Louisiana.”

“I don’t…” Eugene whispers before clearing his own throat, carefully moving to the other end of the bed from the one Babe is sitting on, the side closest to the door. “I don’t think I wanna go, either.”

Babe moves his hands, from his temples up into his hair, pulling on it with what looks like anger. It almost scares Gene for a moment, until Babe sobs, and he recognises frustration as he’s looking at it.

“Edward.” 

Eugene half expects to get a quip about how he’s gonna wear the name out, but instead Babe takes a hacking breath and gets out, “that’s not my fucking name, Gene.”

Oh. “Babe,” Eugene tries, putting one knee on the bed, deciding to take the fucking gamble when it makes Babe sob again. “Darling, _minou_ , Babe, please.”

Exactly what it is that he’s begging for, Gene can’t say, his voice quivering with emotion as he gently crawls over the bed behind Babe. Putting a shaking hand on Babe’s shoulder, he whispers, “ _sweetheart,_ ” and the rubber band snaps.

Babe starts crying so hard that any words he’d try to form would probably turn out as scrambled nonsense as Eugene wraps his arms around him, planting his knees on either side of Babe’s legs and burrowing his face into Babe’s neck.

Clinging to Gene’s arm around him with one one hand, Babe presses the other one to his face, and Eugene would get him some tissues if he wasn’t too busy trying to stop his whole body from trembling by holding on to Babe with everything he has.

He smells so fucking good, it feels like Gene is getting fucked up just on scent memory alone. There are some unfamiliar things there, like whatever detergent his parents use and a different body wash, but Babe still smells like Babe underneath it. He smells like home, safe and warm and like food and good sleep, which makes no sense but Gene feels it anyway.

Forgetting about words — he thinks they’ve somehow managed to talk too much and too little at the same time, lately — Eugene just holds onto Babe like he’s everything. His arms around him, pulling him in, desperation and love and need as if Babe is everything, as if all of the world is contained in this boy’s body and that without him, Gene would be floating helplessly in a vacuum.

It’s how he’s felt for the past month. Adrift, capsized and desperately trying to keep himself above the surface, no idea how he’s going to survive past anything than the present moment. There’s no planning for the future when you’re afraid of not being able to breathe, and Gene hasn’t felt like his chest has been able to move freely for weeks.

Whether or not that’s over now, whether this means that Babe wants— well, anything, he doesn’t know. Gene can’t tell if this means things are going to be okay or if he’s just fine for this specific moment, crying into Babe’s neck while Babe cries in his arms, but it feels like something.

“Sweetheart, I don’t wanna go, please don’t let me go,” Eugene is whispering, his voice muffled by Babe’s soft shirt, as if any of this was Babe’s idea to start with. “Please, let me stay, please, please, please.”

Babe is moving, then, squirming around in front of Eugene until he can tuck his face up against Gene’s chest.

“Stay,” Babe whispers, and Eugene can’t keep sitting like this.

“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath and very reluctantly letting go of Babe to look back over the bed. Squirming back on his ass, getting himself to the headboard and leaning back against the pillows, he keeps one hand on Babe’s arm to pull him closer. “C’mere, c’mere, let me hold you.”

Babe goes willingly, which is like a blessing, crawling up into Eugene’s lap a little uncoordinated. There are limbs everywhere, but Eugene doesn’t care, just helps him squirm into a place where he’s sitting sideways over Gene’s lap, long legs curled up into a fetal-ish position.

Getting to wrap his arms around Babe’s body and hugging him close feels like coming home. Nothing has ever felt more right in Eugene’s whole life than feeling Babe tuck his face into the nook of his neck, Babe’s nook, because it belongs to him. Doesn’t it? All of Eugene belongs to him, every inch of his body and his mind, most of all his heart and his soul.

“I missed you,” Babe croaks, one hand curling into the fabric of Eugene’s shirt, up by his shoulder. “I missed you so much, Gene, I missed— I— Shit—“

He cuts off on another sob, and if Eugene’s heart could break more than it already has, it would. “Baby boy, I know,” is all he manages to say, getting one hand up to cup Babe’s cheek and tangle in a few strands of red hair. It’s a little too long, like Babe has gone all this time without getting it cut once, and Gene just aches. “I missed you too, missed you like crazy, I’ve… This has been the worst time of my life. I never wanna be without you, ever, please—“

“Then why did you leave?” Babe sobs, his hand beating weakly against Eugene’s chest, and. Well. At least that one, Eugene knows the answer to.

“I thought you didn’t want me.” It hurts to say, like everything has been hurting for weeks, and he screws his eyes shut and presses his nose into Babe’s hair. Babe might realise what a coward he’s been, and he might throw Eugene out and never take him back again, and he wants to remember what this boy smells like if that happens. “Not… Not like how I want you. I want you so bad, all of you, and I didn’t— I hadn’t told you. And it’s not right. Can’t just do that, you can’t just… Lie to someone and think it’s okay, when we did what we were doing—“

Babe pulls back, and Gene forces himself not to scramble to keep him, forces himself to steel his heart and just make it through this. But then Babe only moves far away enough to look him in the eye, even though his brows are kinda furrowed. His eyes are red-rimmed and his cheeks splotchy, he looks half a mess, his hair sticking up everywhere. He’s so fucking beautiful, Gene doesn’t know what to do.

“What the fuck, Eugene?” He says, and Gene feels himself wince, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. “No, hey, don’t pull way,” Babe hurries to continue, sniffling through the mucous in his nose as he tries to catch his breath, putting both of his hands on Gene’s neck and making him tilt his head back up and look at him. “You didn’t lie to me. You never lied to me. I know you didn’t.”

“I didn’t tell you.” Gene’s voice is weak, barely above a whisper, feeling like all of him is breaking at once looking into Babe’s face after everything. “I’m fucking gone over you, and I never told you, just… Said all those things, and let you… And I didn’t tell you.”

“Genie,” Babe whispers, his face crumbling into something so, so soft. “Oh, Genie, you don’t… You never lied. Or maybe that counts, I don’t know, but I don’t care. You made me feel safe. Always. I trust you—“

“And that’s why I can’t do shit like that!” Feeling like he’s going to be sick, Eugene forces his way out of Babe’s hands to lean his head forward, covering it with his own shaking fingers. He doesn’t know what to do. “It meant so much more than you knew. I meant everything, all of it, but I let you think it was just play, and that’s not— You can’t just do that to someone, Edward.”

Babe’s arms are soft as they wrap around Eugene, and he can’t help himself from burrowing into the hug, from trembling under the feeling of one warm hand stroking up and down his back. Babe is so warm. He always was, and Eugene has missed that. He feels like he’s gotten caught in a snow storm and had his jacket blown off his back, the only thing shielding him from the elements.

“While I appreciate the fight for honest communication,” Babe tells him quietly, just holding Gene close, “I don’t really… I don’t care. You could’ve told me it was all real and I would’ve just gotten happy. I thought you… I thought I was just being needy, and that you were kind to me, and… Christ, I didn’t even feel bad about wanting you more than you wanted me. So if one of us is bad, it’s me.”

“You could never do anything wrong,” Eugene whispers back at him, feeling his breathing go irregular and uneven. “It’s my job to keep you safe. It’s my job.”

He feels Babe sigh, unsteady and dramatic, above him. “Gene, you sure can be a moron sometimes.” He pulls back and looks at him again, still with that soft, wet look on his face. “But I guess we’ve both been morons. We take care of each other, it’s not a one-sided thing. It’s not just your job to keep me safe. I gotta keep you safe too.”

Pausing for a second and then tacking on, like he just heard it, Babe whispers, “I think I haven’t been taking as much care with you as you have with me.”

“I’m sorry.” It’s all he can think to say. Babe leans in, presses their foreheads together, strokes his thumbs over Eugene’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry too. And I forgive you. Maybe we can just do that? Just forgive each other? Because I haven’t known what the fuck to do without you, Genie, I… I want you. I just want you. As you are. And if you want me too, that’s all that matters to me. We can work on all the other shit, some other time, together. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eugene says, and then blinks and shakes his head a little. “I want you too. I want you so bad, sweetheart, _mon trésor, chérie.”_

Babe smiles, making a noise halfway between a laugh and a sob, but Eugene barely gets time to see it before a pair of warm, tear-swollen lips are on his own. The first kiss is soft, gentle, Babe pulling back only just far enough to break it before tilting his head the other way and coming back in for another.

It feels like Gene is holding the whole world. Like the entirety of the universe is sitting here, on his lap, wrapped into the body of a lanky ginger boy kissing him over and over. It’s the sweetest moment, Babe’s lips so soft and smooth and willing and ready to meet Eugene’s every time they move. He never wants it to stop.

They stay like that for a long time, neither of them feeling like talking, their kissing eventually petering back down into laying curled up together against Babe’s pillows. Eugene has one arm around Babe’s waist, his other hand carding through soft hair, while Babe is happily breathing into his neck and dragging one thumb back and forth over Gene’s collarbone.

“Hey Gene,” he says after a while, his voice a little hoarse. He clears it while Eugene looks down at him.

“Yeah?”

He can feel Babe’s small smile against his chin. “Does this mean we’re boyfriends now?”

It’s so soft, everything about this boy is so fucking soft, Eugene doesn’t know what to do. He hugs him closer, like he’s trying to gently squeeze them into one man. “Yeah, sweet boy,” he says again, closing his eyes and wondering how the fuck this day turned out to be his lucky day. “Yeah, if you want to, I’d… I’d quite like that.”

“Yay,” Babe whispers, which is so fucking cute Gene isn’t sure he can handle it, and then he laughs. “My head is killing me. Can we… Get some water? Or something?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Eugene says, clearing his throat a little and sitting up as Babe does. “We… We should talk. Too. After the water.”

“Can we do that some other time?” Babe asks with a tired smile, stroking one hand over Gene’s hair. “I agree, we’ve done too fucking little talking and too much at the same time, but I’m… I just wanna be close to you. Please?”

“Of course.” Leaning forward again, to lean his head on Babe’s shoulder, Gene is just thanking his fucking stars Babe is here at all right now. “We got time. We got so much time, sweetie.” 

“We do,” Babe says with a smile audible in his voice. They end up just sitting for another minute, like that, holding each other, before Eugene clears his throat again.

“Wanna go take a shower?” He asks, because he knows they can’t stay like this forever. Babe has a headache, and Eugene does too if he’s honest, and he knows Babe always wants to wash himself after crying.

“If you join me,” Babe tells him, and Gene hadn’t realised how badly he’d want to. “And then we’re eating something, Genie. I don’t care if we cook or order out, but we’re eating something.”

It sounds weirdly lecturing. Eugene doesn’t care, just follows Babe out of the room, not letting go of his hand for one second.

———

They end up going for Chinese food, curling up on the sofa together. Gene hadn’t meant to, but he ended up leaned against the armrest with Babe crawling up in between the V of his legs and making himself comfortable on Eugene’s chest.

“You’re so warm,” Gene says halfway through his noodles, because he realises he hadn’t told Babe earlier. Babe looks up at him softly. Eugene’s heart aches.

“That’s good,” he smiles, reaching up to boop Gene on the nose. “Gotta keep my boyfriend warm.”

Eugene’s heart feels like it’s going to explode, and he ends up grinning into his noodles. Babe grins back, wide and warm. “Yeah,” Gene mumbles, “guess you do. Gotta stay close, Edward, I get cold a lot.”

“Then I just gotta make sure you never leave my sight again,” Babe tells him, burrowing himself deeper into Eugene’s chest, sated, his arms going in between Gene’s back and the sofa. “Can’t have my boyfriend get cold, now.”

“You really like that word, huh, Heffron?” It’s teasing, but Gene isn’t going to pretend to fool himself, straining down to give the tip of Babe’s nose a kiss.

“I do,” Babe says, sounding happy and safe. It’s so different from a few hours ago, and Eugene knows he’s going to have to go out on the balcony and scream at some point over all this. “I like it so much.”

“Well, I like you,” Eugene says, kissing Babe’s forehead and putting his noodles down on the sofa table to hug him. “Say it again?”

Babe grins, tucks his face into Gene’s dark, soft shirt. “What? That you’re my boyfriend?”

“Yeah.” With his eyes closed, Eugene focuses on the feeling of this. Of Babe on top of him, curled up and safe, where he belongs. God, Gene wants Babe to belong with him. Wants them to sort all of this out, to fix all their stupid fucking mistakes, maybe learn how to actually communicate and not just expect sex and Thursday dinners to solve all of their problems.

There are soft eyes looking up at him. “You’re my boyfriend, Genie. For real, now. And I’m not gonna let you go anywhere so easily anymore.”

The blood in Eugene’s body feels like it’s Gaines a couple of degrees. He doesn’t know what to say, so just defaults to a “c’mere” and tugging Babe upwards into a kiss. 

The boy goes willingly, his boy goes willingly, and Gene stops thinking about anything else. They have things to figure out, one hell of a fucking conversation to have with their friends, months of shitty communication to fix, but it’s okay. 

They have time. They have all the time in the world, because Babe is here, and Eugene is here, and they want to do this. Gene trusts that Babe wants to do this.

It’s not long before both of them have ended up giving up on their dinner and their movie, Babe crawling off of Gene and tugging him down the hall with a tutting and a reprimand about getting enough sleep.

As Eugene gets to crawl on top of him, his chest still doing painfully relieved things, he’s trying to kiss every spot of freckled skin he can reach. “Missed you, baby,” he mumbles, nosing along the line of Babe’s jaw, feeling encouraged by the way Babe’s wrapped his arms around Eugene’s torso and is lightly gripping into his shirt. “Missed you so much.”

“Me too,” Babe whispers back, and when he turns his face to get a kiss, Gene finally just melts. He could lie here for hours, just like this, with Babe’s warm body underneath his and their hands holding each other close, Babe’s mouth soft and pliable under his. “Missed you so bad it hurt. I never wanna do that again.”

“We won’t,” Eugene promises him, breaking their soft kisses to press their foreheads together, looking at Babe in the half-dark, just some light trickling in through the window from the street below. “Never gonna let you miss me again, okay?”

“You gonna keep me, Gene?” Babe smiles up at him, soft and gentle, and Eugene will never be able to love anyone as much as he loves this man. “For real?”

“Of course I will.” He pulls one of Babe’s arms down to be able to lace their fingers together, up by the pillows, reaching up to stroke Babe’s cheek with his other hand. “Gonna keep you forever, sweetheart. Or as long as you want me to.”

“Forever sounds good to me.” Grinning again, Babe tilts his jaw up for more kisses. Eugene obliges him happily, opening his mouth to let their tongues slide together. Babe tastes like chow mein and Fanta and like that inherently Babe taste.

He really, really wishes it’ll really be forever. 

A part of him, a large part, is convinced they can get there. If they just work hard enough, talk enough, make sure to learn from this fucking train wreck of a situation and make sure they don’t repeat it. They could get to forever. Eugene can’t wait.

Realising that he has to start somewhere, he pulls back from the kiss just far enough to feel Babe’s breath ghost over his face while still not having their lips connect. 

“I love you, Babe,” he whispers, not giving himself enough time to think. If he does, he’s going to complicate things and mess everything up again. Eugene has done too much thinking and it’s led him absolutely nowhere.

As Babe breaks out into soft, giddy laughter under him, twining their legs together under the sheets, Gene feels like it was the right thing to do.

“I love you too,” he whispers back, pressing his face into the side of Eugene’s, like he’s suddenly shy. “Jesus, Gene, I love you so damn much, you got no idea. Every part of me loves every part of you, Eugene Roe. So, so much.”

“Well,” Eugene tells him, kissing the spot just in front of Babe’s ear. “I gotta find out just how much you love me, then, don’t I? We can’t have me out here not having no idea.”

Babe just giggles back, pushes on Eugene until they roll over and he can make himself comfortable on top of his boyfriend _(his boyfriend!),_ face tucked into his neck and Gene carding a hand through his hair. 

“I love you,” Eugene says quietly.

“Love you too,” Babe says back, and Eugene has to close his eyes. He knows he’s going to fall asleep like this, because he’s not slept nearly enough lately, and Babe is as inviting and soothing and comfortable as his bed is.

They have things to do going forward, but it’s okay, there’s no hurry.

Because they’ll do it together. And if it’s the last thing Eugene does, he’s gonna make sure Babe is safe and sound until the day he fucking dies. They’ll keep each other safe.

They might just be two boys, silly and in love and tangled together in a bed in Philadelphia, a mountain of stupid decisions behind them, but they got each other.

There’s no rush. 

They have time.

**Author's Note:**

> GOD this series has been such a ride haha.
> 
> I wanna shoot special thanks to Laura. My darling, darling Laura, who has supported me this whole damn time, who I met in the ao3 comment section and who ended up becoming one of my absolute closest friends in life. I love you, you've done so much overtime with this shit, and I'm endlessly happy to have you in my life.
> 
> There are so many other people too, and unfortunately I'm gonna have to lump you all together, because otherwise this will get 500 yards long -- whether you're still around or not, I wanna thank you for all the good things you brought with you and I hope that life continues to treat you well.
> 
> Never forget that you're strong and important, and being your friend is a neverending privilege <3
> 
> If anyone wants to come talk to me at any time, you can scream at me in the comments here, [ on tumblr,](mariamegale.tumblr.com), or [you can join our Band of Brothers discord server](https://discord.gg/JZVc2Jk)! We're about 90 people constantly willing to discuss Them Bois, we have a welcome wagon the size of fucking texas, and it's where I'm most active by far. Although I do promise I will eventually get to any messages here and on tumblr as well, it might just take a little more time!
> 
> I just... love these fucking boys so fucking much, lol. Rest assured that they will go on to have a lovely life, just the two of them and their abundance of love and trust. they got this.
> 
> This has been a journey, for good and for worse, and while I won't say I'll never return to this AU, you know... for all intents and purposes, this is indeed the end for CMS. I don't really know where else to take them from here, as any earlier plans there were now feel very far removed from where I am as a writer and a person today. Don't get me wrong, I love them with all my heart, but BTS this story got kinda hijacked by life circumstances and got away from me in a way that I'm not sure how to continue haha. 
> 
> However, I don't really have any plans to stop writing, so we'll hopefully have more soft bois in the future, just in different aus! <3 <3 <3 
> 
> Thank you all so much for sticking with me, whether it was the whole way or just for a lil bit. I love you all, you mean the world, and I hope I will keep seeing you around. On here, on discord and/or tumblr <3
> 
> Love you all! <3 <3 <3


End file.
